


Reasons Steve Rogers Is Trying Not to Cry During Karaoke Night

by Gaberoonius



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Karaoke, Marvin Gaye - Freeform, Not Really Character Death, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Songfic, reasons my son is crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaberoonius/pseuds/Gaberoonius
Summary: (or; You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you.)The latest Avengers team-building event is karaoke night. Steve Rogers, preoccupied with the search for Bucky, finds that some of the lyrics hit a little too close to home.





	1. Play That Funky Music

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I was out doing karaoke with friends a while back, and I had Stucky fanfic on the brain, and a weirdly large proportion of the songs reminded me of them. When you get obsessed with something, you see connections all over the place. 
> 
> I have a long and carefully-crafted playlist about Steve & Bucky; this is not that. This is for the stupid, saccharine, overplayed pop songs and the classic karaoke mainstays that I still somehow manage to relate to my fandom, not for the indie rock that makes me cry.

It hardly even bears mentioning that this whole debacle was Tony’s idea. Well, “debacle” isn’t really fair; Steve is the only one freaking out, and he’s doing his best to keep it under wraps. He and Sam have been taking a short rest from their “missing persons case,” and he’s supposed to be relaxing and having fun for once.

And it is fun. It’s nice to give Sam a chance to get to know the rest of the team in a casual context, now that he’s officially an Avenger. Pretty much everyone is here, including some friends and auxiliary members and so on. Thor is even on earth for a bit, and he’s actually less bemused by this than one might expect. (Apparently comrades in arms serenading one another is kind of a thing in Asgard?)

...and thus, Tony has finally made good on his long-standing “promise” (it always felt more like a threat to Steve) of Karaoke Night With The Avengers.

Steve is starting to feel really nostalgic for the effects of alcohol.

 

* * *

 

“So what’s it gonna be, Junior Birdman? _I Believe I Can Fly_? _Fly Like An Eagle_? _I’m Like a Bird_?” It’s Sam’s turn to pick a song, and Tony clearly wants to get on with it.

“If you can talk Senior Birdman over there into joining in,” —here, Sam nods across the room toward Clint, who is apparently busy teaching Wanda something to do with bartending— “we will do _I’m a Bird Motha******_ and it will be epic.”

“Yessss–”

“–But it’s too early in the night for that shit. Lemme see the list.”

(Steve almost asks about the song about foul-mouthed birds, but figures he’ll find out later.)

Tony hands over a thick binder (he’d whined earlier about not having this whole thing set up over voice command, and about the general lack of entertainment capabilities at the new training facility as compared with the tower—but Steve knows he’s just frustrated over having JARVIS out of commission) and Sam flips through it, scanning the options.

“What about something from that record you introduced me to in DC?” Steve suggests.

“ _Trouble Man_! Well, I am definitely going to make sure every Avenger hears that album if they haven’t already. But for right now, I’m looking to go a little more mainstream than that.”

“Mainstream, huh?”

“It’s more fun when everyone knows the song, you know? Since the whole point of karaoke is to sing along…” Sam gives the binder another thoughtful glance. “You’re definitely onto something with Marvin Gaye, though. I’m just going to take the most obvious choice. Well, second most obvious,” he corrects himself, stopping Tony’s growing smirk in its tracks. “ _Let’s Get It On_ is not really a message I feel like sending to everyone in the room.”

“Made up your mind?”

“Yep.” Sam hands back the binder and taps his finger on the chosen title. “Play that funky music, white boy!”

“Wait,” says Tony, “but that’s not the song you—”

“No, that was supposed to be—” Sam sighs. “That part was a joke. About telling you to—play the song, or—whatever. Just go play the song.”

“Oh! Right. I get it. I’ll just. Go. Play the song,” Tony mutters, heading over to the jukebox-like thing in the corner.

“I’m so confused,” says Steve.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put it on your list,” says Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, all of the bird-related songs mentioned are included in a Sam/Falcon-themed playlist that I have in progress ;)


	2. Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

The song Sam chose is a duet, and he makes a valiant but inevitably futile effort to rope Natasha into doing the lady’s part. (Steve’s not even sure why she’s here, although if he’s honest, he’s not sure why he’s here himself.) The backup plan is for Sam to attempt to do both parts, which is actually pretty entertaining in itself. His falsetto is terrible.

And Steve is enjoying himself. He really is.

But.

 

_Baby there ain’t no mountain high enough_   
_ain’t no valley low enough_   
_Ain’t no river wide enough_   
_to keep me from gettin’ to you_

 

(He should have gone back for Bucky. Steve had never taken “no way they could have survived that” for an answer before. If he had just—)

(He could have at least—)

(—and hadn’t something like that sentiment crossed his mind just before the Valkyrie went down? That nothing would keep them apart again? Not even death—)

He takes a deep breath. Shakes himself back to the present. He is not going to have a flashback in the middle of karaoke night. He’s fine. (He’s not exactly fine.) He’s going to be fine.

(Snow and rocks and train tracks linger behind his eyelids when he blinks.)

There have always been little things that reminded him of Bucky. Of course there would be. It’s been the thorn in his paw since he came out of the ice—a grief that was fresh to him and decades old to everyone else—and he’s not even sure he’d want the thorn pulled out if St. Jerome were offering. Not that that’s an option. It’s hard to dull the pain without dulling the memories, and Steve’s memory is perfect.

(Even now that he knows Bucky is alive, Steve can’t seem to break the habit of mourning him.)

He pastes on a smile—Sam will probably see right through it, but at least no one else will notice anything wrong—and taps his foot through the rest of the song.

* * *

 

He was right—Sam corners him later with the penetrating gaze that means he didn’t quite manage to leave the counselor at work.

“You ok? You need to get out of here?”

“Just leave it, Sam. I’m fine.” Steve shrugs the comforting hand off his shoulder.

“Whatever you say, man. I just think… That valley really wasn’t low enough, you know? You’re still gonna get to him.”


End file.
